Daffodils for My Mother

I have not written much lately because of a difficult time in my life right now. My mother is critically ill as she battles cancer and seems to be traveling down a road from which she will not be able to return.

In the tradition of Charles Dickens, I have come to think of this spring in terms of "it was the best of times, it was the worst of times." Although my situation is certainly not as dire as the French Revolution, it is a way for me to cope with all that's going on.

The spring has been beautiful, with an early disappearance of snow and an early appearance of flowers, blossoms and warm weather. Daffodils ($1 a bunch!) are in roadside stands everywhere.

We have been blessed with a new baby boy grandson, Nolan, who is 3-1/2 months old as I write this, and he's so perfect.

But all this is shadowed by my mother's illness. Watching this once vital woman fade away. Watching her lie in her bed and tell me she just feels miserable, and both of us feeling so helpless to change it.

I am her only daughter, I have given her her only granddaughter. We have a strong bond. We like each other. I have always felt I could handle anything that came my way because she was there to back me up. It is difficult for me to think that may not be the case for much longer.

When I hold Nolan, his warm little body curling into mine, his soft baby hair against my cheek, I know that life is meant to go on. That I can not save her by my sheer force of will. I know it is out of my hands, it's up to a higher force. But I still can't accept that, I can not imagine the hole I would have in my life.

All I can do is be with her as much as possible. To buy her bunches of flowers to brighten her room. To let her know I am there, even if she must travel to that place she must go to alone.